She curled her claws in preparation for the Pressing;
Eyes dark as midnight, Damascus tuned out the rage,
focusing it on the one who stood before her.
‘Your goggles,’ Cappy whispered from the right,
but she refused to acknowledge him
lest her concentration be broken.
She stopped, toe to toe with her adversary
Damascus was close enough to feel the fear emanating from the girl
she would regain her throne this night.
Please don’t ask because I don’t know where this came from. I offer 76 words of fighting power (in a magical sort of way, I think) for this week’s VisDare. Click the photo to visit the prompt.